


Trim

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Animal Play, Collars, Ficlet, M/M, Pet Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 12:40:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14873918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis fits some new accessories on his cat.





	Trim

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Any/Ignis - Petplay with a tail plug” prompt on [the FFXV kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4747.html?thread=10299531#cmt10299531).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

_Arcade in an hour?_

The text comes as soon as the _King’s Knight_ app is closed, and Noctis reads the subtext: Prompto wants a rematch. Noctis hesitates, because kicking Prompto’s ass is even more fun in person, and the obnoxious, sweaty atmosphere of the darkened arcade is a nice contrast to the rest of his uptight princely duties. But he’s got other plans for the night and answers: _Nope_. 

He’s just clicked send when he hears the apartment door open. Noctis knows exactly who it is. He bites back his grin and pretends to still be buried in his phone when Ignis rounds the corner into the living room. His eyes immediately latch onto Noctis, and Noctis looks up with a short nod of greeting. Then Ignis is falling wordlessly into his routine.

There’s no college homework tonight. Noctis made sure to finish poring over the council reports early. He already had dinner, and Ignis knows it. All that’s left is _fun_. Ignis starts with his tailored jacket, shedding it from his slender shoulders with all the grace of a trained dancer.

He folds the jacket and sets it on the dining room table, and that’s Noctis’ cue to look away again, feigning disinterest. He’s got a reputation to maintain before he inevitably falls in too deep, and he doesn’t need Ignis knowing just _how_ easily and quickly he breaks down Noctis’ walls. But out the corner of Noctis’ eye, he hungrily drinks in the rest of the show. Ignis undoes every button of his crisp business shirt with dexterous precision. It joins the jacket, and then he’s popping open his fly. A slight hitch of breath betrays Noctis’ reaction. Ignis doesn’t mention it. He slips out of his pants and boxers all at once, and even his socks join the neatly folded pile. 

Utterly, gloriously naked from head to foot, Ignis retires to the bedroom. _Noctis’_ bedroom. His nightstand has all the essentials. Noctis sends Prompto one more text, then turns the phone off entirely. When Ignis returns, he has everything in hand. 

He settles down before Noctis, kneeling obediently at Noctis’ feet. He offers up the objects, face carefully impassive. He doesn’t question the new additions. As Noctis collects each item, he asks, “Well?”

“They were with my collar,” Ignis explains, the question bright in his green eyes but otherwise unspoken. “I assume I was meant to bring them as well.”

Noctis nods his approval and starts with that collar. The familiar band feels _right_ in his hands, always has. It’s too easy to press the royal black faux-leather against Ignis’ throat. The little silver pendant at the front rests snugly against his collarbone. Noctis fastens the clasp in the back, fingers brushing through Ignis’ soft hair as he goes, and every second of it is exhilarating. The game is still as fun to him as it was the first time they tried it. He can see the subtle smile on Ignis’ lips, every bit as keen to play. The collar is a symbol that marks this game, and it clearly, proudly professes Ignis as _his_.

He’s thought about specifying that, though, and the new pieces help narrow it down. He lifts the thin headband up to Ignis and slips it into Ignis’ hair, then brushes the honey-brown stands back to hide the band. Two pointed, chocolate-coloured feline ears poke out of it, impressively realistic. He’d worried it might look a little goofy, and in a way, it does. But it also makes Ignis impossibly cute. His new cat gives him a small, encouraging smile. 

The ears aren’t what really matter anyway. Clutching the last item in his hands, Noctis orders, “Turn around.”

Ignis instantly obeys. He turns sideways and leans down, onto his hands and knees, shuffling around to face away from Noctis, and then he lowers his upper body down onto the floor. His cheek presses against the carpet beneath the coffee table, his back arched and hips still in the air, legs slightly spread. His rear faces Noctis, taut but still soft, dimpled when he flexes. He adjusts, then settles, presenting himself to Noctis like the good pet Noctis wanted. 

Ignis has always been good. Noctis spends a moment just appreciating the view. Then he pops two fingers into his mouth and wets them as much as he can. It wouldn’t be enough for anything big, but the plug Noctis bought is relatively small. He figures he’ll work Ignis up. Knowing how adaptable and eager-to-please Ignis is, he’ll probably be taking the full-sized models by the weekend. 

With his left hand, Noctis spreads Ignis’ cheeks enough to see his puckered hole. As soon as Noctis has his wet index finger against it, Ignis’ breath is catching. Noctis is glad that Ignis waited to let his master do this, rather than simply donning all the items in the bedroom. In the future, Noctis thinks he might like to watch Ignis do it himself. But this first time, Noctis enjoys the privilege of slowly fingering Ignis open. He knows that Ignis is already clean—he always showers thoroughly before attending Noctis’ bed. Noctis isn’t surprised to find him also a little loose. Noctis is careful with him anyway, studiously rubbing the furrowed brim and gently rocking in and out of his velvety hole. When Noctis can finally manage two fingers comfortably, he scissors Ignis wider, stretching Ignis out. It isn’t until Ignis grunts a breathy, “Noct—” that Noctis stops.

The plug is a smooth, metallic-looking instrument that Noctis presses into Ignis’ hole without much difficulty. Ignis still gasps at the intrusion, clenching around it, but he shows no signs of distress. The plug itself is completely swallowed up in his greedy channel, but the attached tail, long, thin, and fluffy, marks its entrance. The tail hangs limply down Ignis’ ass, hiding his crack, and for that very reason, Noctis considers getting a wired one for next time. He’ll probably wind up with a sizeable collection. Maybe they won’t even all be feline, though Noctis does have a particular fondness for domestic cats, and he’s confident Ignis will make an exception kitten. 

Just to test it, Noctis give the tail a light tug, and Ignis grunts, but the plug stays firmly embedded in his ass. Satisfied, Noctis pats his ass, and Ignis complies with the unspoken command, getting back up to all fours. Noctis reaches over to scratch behind his fake ears, and Ignis leans into the affectionate touch but doesn’t turn around. It’s the right decision. Even as Noctis pets the back of Ignis’ head, his eyes remain glued on Ignis’ ass. It makes him think of a good reason to try a canine tail next time—then he can make Ignis wag it. Cats don’t really do that, but after enough petting, Ignis does start to squirm, and the tail twitches whenever he shifts his weight, eliciting a sharp exhalation of breath each time. Noctis finds his free hand reaching there, and he smoothes over Ignis’ inner thighs just to feel the tail against the back of his hand. Ignis makes a mewling sound, practiced but still pleasant. Noctis appreciates the effort. He murmurs, “Good kitty,” and doesn’t have to see Ignis’ face to know that Ignis is pleased. 

The only thing left, then, is to see the tail in action. Noctis pats his ass again and suggests, “Why don’t you go and fetch one of your toys from the bedroom? Then I’ll scratch your tummy and give you your milk.” 

Ignis looks over his shoulder, and his half-lidded eyes already look dilated. Noctis thinks of removing his glasses, just to complete the truly _naked_ look. But in the end, Noctis doesn’t, because he wants Ignis to clearly see the lust that his total submission drives Noctis to when they’re in the thick of things. When Ignis turns to go, Noctis’ gaze beelines back to the plug.

He watches Ignis crawl away on all fours, the tail swishing back and forth across his upturned cheeks. Noctis knows he made the right decision. The arcade would’ve been fun, but it could never reach the level of a night in with his Ignis.


End file.
